


Silk, Emerald Green

by telepaths



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Smut, Smutlet, Spanking, one-sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-15
Updated: 2011-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-26 02:37:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telepaths/pseuds/telepaths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New Zealand spends some quality time with himself with Arthur on his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silk, Emerald Green

**Author's Note:**

> New Zealand POV; I realize that the character’s gender seems to be under debate, but the general fanart-based consensus is that he is male. I’ve given him the human name ‘James Kirkland’ for the sake of fanworks.

I bought it all for Arthur. Well, not _for_ Arthur, really, but for use with Arthur. It had only begun as a sort of joke to myself, and was not supposed to be taken seriously, but the more I thought of it and the more I pictured it in my head, the more wonderful it became. The slip was a lovely green and it reminded me so much of his eyes. Arthur liked green, didn’t he? It was lacy, just about its edges, and the straps that held the light fabric against my skin were barely a centimetre in width. I was thinking of the expression that would cross Arthur’s face when he saw me in such a thing while I worked to remove what I was wearing and slip myself into the silk of it.

I couldn’t help but look at myself in the mirror and as I caught sight of the lace edges falling just above the middle of my thighs I let out a deep, long breath. It was an incredible shame, I thought to myself, that Arthur would never see me in such a dress. Arthur was not mine to lay a claim to; he was not mine to lust over, and he was not mine to love – but oh, I loved him. I loved him and I worshiped him, and I wanted nothing more than to slide up against the man in this lingerie – this women’s lingerie – and lace my fingers around his neck and press my body against his until I could feel him grow hard underneath me.

The lingerie set came with garters. Tight, embroidered lace garters. I sat on the edge of my bed to pull them up my legs, doing it slowly. That was when I began to think of it. I felt foolish and I felt like a child, but as I worked my way into the garters, slid the silk of the slip up around my waist, I found myself imagining that Arthur was there with me in my room. He was watching me dress myself in this scandalous clothing and he was watching me with those matching emerald eyes, a hunger in them that made shivers crawl down my spine. The more I imagined Arthur here, the more my desire for him grew and the more I began to become aroused. I was almost surprised when I realized that I’d become somewhat hard, blinking up at myself in the mirror I’d been watching myself in. Arthur.

I reached for my chest with a hand, touching the spot above my heart that the slip so nicely left open for viewing. I tried to imagine that my hand was not my own and I watched myself press it more firmly to my body, trail it down my chest. When I closed my eyes I was more able to entertain this new fantasy of mine and it was not long before I was pulling the slip up and bunching it ‘round my waist so I could grasp at my prick. I almost startled myself with my own gasp, almost startled myself out of my imaginings. I suddenly realized how silly it was to be stroking myself as I stood in front of my mirror and made a note to move to my bed.

Dropping the bunched fabric back down around my hardness made me sigh and swallow a louder sound. It felt so wonderful; I was so aroused that every slight friction against my body was an overwhelming sensation and the feeling of the silk against my cock only served to be more arousing. I wondered how Arthur would feel wearing such things; I couldn’t help but wonder if he had before, if perhaps Arthur would have tried to wear women’s clothing at one point or another in his life. I couldn’t help remembering that Alfred had said something to that extent once in one of his jokes and it made my cheeks flush noticeably to me.

When I situated myself against my bed once more, I wanted to feel the fabric against myself further. I was growing so much harder, and I pressed myself against my mattress and reached out for one of my pillows – oh, I needed something to cling to. Before I knew it, my arms were tight around my pillow and my cock was trapped between my stomach and my mattress, that lovely friction of the silk returning to the sensitivity of my length and making me shudder in my new position. Would Arthur like me this way? I could present myself to him, I thought, as I spread my legs against my bed and reached between myself and my mattress to grasp at my length again.

It was with those questions that I began to fall back into what was quickly becoming a wonderful fantasy. Arthur was behind me, watching me. I imagined what it would be like to feel his weight as he climbed onto my bed with me. The feel of his hands gripping at my sides, running over my buttocks, squeezing me. I was surprised to feel the way my body trembled with need as I imagined these things – even more surprised to hear my voice crying for Arthur to touch me. As I did, my fingers tightened around my erection, and I moved my hands and hips in a slow rhythm against my mattress as I heard his familiar and breathtaking voice in my head…

 _“Did you think you could arouse me with women’s clothing, James?”_

Oh, the way he would say my name if I was bent over for him, presented to him. Please, Arthur, please say my name again for me? _“James,”_ I heard again, echoing in my mind, playing for me as if he were really there. His hand brushing light circles around my ass, gentle touches, almost romantic before he lifts it – and it comes abruptly back, slapping against my behind with a crack. _“Such a naughty idea, James. Who do you take me for? Do you think I am that much of a poofter?”_

No, no, I don’t! I’m sorry, Arthur, I thought… I knew you would enjoy it. He would smile down at me, hiding in that smile the love that he really felt. He would spank me once more and I would moan for him. My hand increased its pace against my cock and the rocking of my hips became more and more insistent as I felt my pleasure building like a tight, burning coil within my stomach; a pleasure that was increased substantially by the rubbing of the lingerie, the looseness of the unclipped garters ‘round my thighs and the deep sound of my imaginary Arthur’s voice. Arthur pressed against me, pushing the silk up around the small of my back, pressing his own hardness against my ass as I trembled with want of him.

Arthur spanked me again, teasing my buttock with that soft, gentle rubbing at first and making me scream. “Arthur, Arthur, oh, Arthur,” I heard myself chanting. I was chanting it for him, for myself. My fingers were moving faster now, my hips were gyrating into my fist and against my mattress. I felt my toes curling and I felt my warm breath moist against my cheek as I panted against the pillow underneath my chin. The slip was sliding against my balls, teasing my head as I fucked into it, held my eyes shut and listened for Arthur. Oh, Arthur; he laughed softly, lowly as he prepared to enter me –

I came with an abrupt shudder and convulsion of my muscles, my toes tightening into a curl and my lips parting for a cry. I clung to my pillow with my one hand as I pumped my come from my cock as if I were bidding to press out each possible drop. I felt the familiar stickiness of it coating both my stomach and the silk, causing the wet spot of fabric to stick to my belly as I caught my breath slowly. I had collapsed against my bed effectively, my legs still spread. I was panting, my slip was bunched ‘round the small of my back behind me, and my imaginary Arthur was gone.

It was a moment or two before I was able to stand up again, to remove the garments from my body. I peeled them off carefully and I found myself smiling at the slip in my hands, the wet spot that I had left on it. I would have to wash it before I ever wore it for Arthur, surely. I swallowed back an impending frown then.

I knew I would never wear it for Arthur.

He wasn’t mine to be lovely for.


End file.
